The Red God Takes What Is His,

I Try To Make The Readers Feel They've Lived The Events Of The Book. Just As You Grieve If A Friend Is Killed, You Should Grieve If A Fictional Character Is Killed. You Should Care. If Somebody Dies And You Just Go Get More Popcorn, It's A Superficial Experience Isn't It?

It Was The Easiest Thing In The World For Arya To Step Up Behind Him And Stab Him. “is There Gold Hidden In The Village?” She Shouted As She Drove The Blade Up Through His Back. “is There Silver? Gems?” She Stabbed Twice More. “is There Food? Where Is Lord Beric?” She Was On Top Of Him By Then, Still Stabbing. “where Did He Go? How Many Men Were With Him? How Many Knights? How Many Bowmen? How Many, How Many, How Many, How Many, How Many, How Many? Is There Gold In The Village?

It Seemed Cruel For A Day To Dawn So Fair And End So Foul As This One Promised To.

It's Not," Mormont Told Him. "gods Save Us, Boy, You're Not Blind And You're Not Stupid. When Dead Men Come Hunting In The Night, Do You Think It Matters Who Sits The Iron Throne?

Arya, What Are You Doing?" "syrio Says A Water Dancer Can Stand On One Toe For Hours." Her Hands Flailed At The Air To Steady Herself. Ned Had To Smile. "which Toe?" He Teased. "any Toe," Arya Said, Exasperated With The Question. She Hopped From Her Right Leg To Her Left, Swaying Dangerously Before She Regained Her Balance. "must You Do Your Standing Here?" He Asked. "it's A Long Hard Fall Down These Steps." "syrio Says A Water Dancer Never Falls.